


A Pretty Good Bad Idea

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Body Image, Come Eating, Developing Relationship, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Multi, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pre-Canon, Resolved Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, only god knows bc i sure don't, where are they? who's hands are on who? what's touching where?, writing normal smut is already hard how do people WRITE threesomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 11:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19004524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: MJ and Peter are in a cutesy, heterosexual, totally normal relationship. And that'sjust finewith Wade. Really!! He's absolutely fine with it! He's in love with both of them, but like... it's fine. He can deal with it. Feelings are dumb. Except that MJ and Peter have feelings? for him? too?





	A Pretty Good Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

> This has taken me WEEKS to write-- I meant to finish it pretty directly after the last MJ/PP/WW fic I posted, but obviously that,,, didn't happen. 
> 
> So here's this! It kinda goes along and explains some backstory of the headcanons that go along with my story What Happens in This Dimension, but you don't have to read one to understand the other. (I'd link it but ao3 HATES me and I can never link stuff properly.) This is RiPeter and his MJ and Wade— so they’re all from Miles’ dimension. 
> 
> Title comes from the musical _Waitress._

Wade is backing up, out of the kitchen, out of the way, when Peter unsticks his face from MJ’s long enough to look around and catch sight of him. His face brightens in a way that makes Wade ridiculously glad his own mask is still on, because that giddy happiness _does things_ to Wade’s insides that can’t be healthy. Or legal.

Not that Wade actually gives a shit about either of those things, in the long run, but it’s the _principle_ of the thing.

And besides, if his mask were off, Peter or MJ might see how stupidly jealous Wade is of their happy, loving relationship, and Wade’s not having that shit at all.

“Wade,” Peter says, and it’s so breathless and happy that Wade wants to tear his mask off and let them see anyways. Nobody should be that happy to see him. It’s probably a crime.

MJ gives a pleased little giggle and tilts her head back, back, until she’s gazing at Wade upside down with Peter supporting her with a hand on her upper back. His other arm is wrapped around her waist to keep her from falling. It’s cute. _They’re_ cute, sickeningly so. It makes Wade _sick._ Or… fuck, it _should._ It doesn’t, not actually, but it fucking should.

“Hey there,” MJ greets him. She grins, her face flushed a bright red from both the intense makeout session Wade seems to have interrupted, and from the blood now rising to her cheeks with her angle of upside-down-ness. “You’re just in time.”

Wade forces a chuckle that probably sounds just as rough as it feels. Damn it! Damn his stupid emotions, damn them to hell! Nah, hell’s not good enough for his emotions. Damn them to… Pittsburgh! Yeah, that’s better.

“I figured I was a, uh, little early for board games and beer,” Wade replies awkwardly, with a little wave of his hand to gesture between the entwined couple. “I can walk outta here, go stroll the halls, pretend I didn’t see anything—“

“Wade.” Peter says his name again, but this time, it’s pointed. Peter’s trying to stop him from rambling, then? Fine. Wade can shut up.

...maybe.

“Right. See ya in a bit, MJ. Webs. I’ll just see myself—“

Before Wade can say the word _out,_ MJ untangles herself from Peter’s arms and gives his hand a squeeze that’s more than obvious before letting go and nudging him towards Wade.

“We’re not playing board games tonight, okay?” Peter says, carefully, gently, like he’s talking to an injured creature in some fucked up fairytale forest. Wade feels a blanket of doom fall over him almost immediately. Peter’s using his Serious Voice, the one that means something’s up. And not something like something small, either. This is his _something is Happening and I need you to listen to me_ voice, and Wade automatically finds himself straightening up a little to pay attention even as trepidation grips his heart. “I might’ve lied a little to get you to come over.” He _does_ look properly sheepish, which Wade might’ve poked fun of in any other circumstance. As it is, his throat right now feels too dry to get anything out of.

“Pete, you’re scaring him,” MJ admonishes gently. She steps forward, passing Peter, and reaches out to Wade until she finds one of his hands with her own.

Major flashing lights go off in Wade’s brain: _it’s time to freak out because something is Seriously Wrong and it’s probably my fault and—_ Peter AND MJ are both in on whatever this Serious Business is, and Wade is obviously on the outs.

That has to be it. They’ve decided they no longer want him in their lives, and they’re dumping him in the trash like a cold lumpy ball of mashed potatoes the morning after Thanksgiving.

Wade might know he deserves it, but it still fucking stings.

“Stop it,” MJ says, squeezing his hand, and Wade blinks at her because _fuck,_ she’s too smart. She’s too smart for Peter and she’s _definitely_ too smart for him and no _wonder_ they’ve decided to get rid of him.

Wade knows he’s a mess, but this is fucking uncalled for. “Just get it over with, Red,” he says, and fuck, he sounds desperate, doesn’t he. His voice cracks and he makes to pull his hand away because he doesn’t need her pity, dammit, but MJ holds firm. For a lady without any superpowers, she sure does do well keeping two idiots _with_ them in check.

“Wade,” Peter says, warningly, gently, and Wade stops trying to tug his hand from MJ’s grip. “Would you stop throwing yourself at the fourth wall for a second and just listen?”

Yeah, that was easy for Peter to say. It wasn’t like Wade could just turn off his inner monologue. Wouldn’t that be nice! He could just snap his fingers and _poof,_ stop talking to himself in his own head? Yeah, that would be the dream. But it’s not like he can just _stop,_ regardless of what either of them think. (MJ is speaking, and Wade is acting like he’s paying attention, but he can’t hear her voice over the rushing in his ears, the voices in his head.) He should probably just leave. He _would_ just leave, except for the fact that MJ is still holding his hands and he doesn’t _really_ feel like sawing his own arms off. Again.

Regrowing arms is a pain in the fucking humerus. Contrary to the name, it’s not actually funny at all. (Peter is saying _something,_ now, the handsome blond devil, but Wade is still too zoned-out to make sense of it.)

And it hits Wade like a freight train, too. _That’s_ why they’re kicking him to the curb. They probably figured out he’s got the hots for both of them and they’re not about it. _Fuck,_ he’s tried to be subtle. He’s tried so hard, but apparently nothing he does is ever right. It’s not like he can _control_ the fact that he’s in love with these losers! In fact, he’d love it if he felt nothing at all for them! But Peter is handsome and really good in a fight and doesn’t mind when Wade shows up at his apartment after he gets shot to wait out the pain, and MJ is beautiful and smart and they’re _both_ funny as hell. _And_ they don’t seem to mind his fucked up face, which is a huge goddamn plus. (Peter and MJ exchange a look in front of him, and then Peter steps to his side and oh fuck oh fuck why can’t Wade _listen—)_ How could Wade not fall for them? (—and Peter’s hand is on his shoulder and MJ is _leaning forward what the fuck—)_

MJ reaches up and rolls Wade’s mask just past his nose, and then she kisses him.

Wade jerks back immediately, even though every fibre of his being wants to submit, to let MJ kiss him, because _shit_ that girl seems to know what she’s doing and one taste is not enough.

“The _fuck—?“_ Wade starts to say, but he’s cut off by Peter snorting a laugh. Wade can’t _move;_ he’s sandwiched between them —trapped like a rat in a cage made of the most delectable cheese known to rat-kind— and Peter’s hand on his shoulder is keeping him from stepping away from MJ, who’s staring at him the way she stares at Peter sometimes, with that adoring, lovestruck fondness that makes Wade ache inside.

“I told you he wasn’t listening,” Peter tells MJ, and she shakes her head, still smiling.

“Are you listening now?” she asks, and Wade isn’t sure he has the words to answer.

“What the _fuck_ was that?!” Nope. He definitely does _not_ have an answer.

Peter shifts his grip so quickly that Wade almost doesn’t notice the arm snaking around his waist. Peter is so _warm_ against him, stupidly so. Wade leans into the touch without thinking. MJ’s smile gets wider, and she throws her arms around both of them, linking her fingers somewhere behind Peter and effectively further trapping Wade right where he is.

“If you’d been listening, you would have heard MJ telling you that we’re both madly in love with you, and that we invited you here tonight hoping you’d have some wild, kinky sex with us,” Peter murmurs somewhere near Wade’s ear while MJ lets out a happy laugh on his other side.

For the first time in his goddamn life, Wade is pretty sure he’s actually been rendered speechless. No, seriously, his head? Completely silent. Which _never happens._ Ever!! All he can do is let his jaw drop —which the other two _see, fuck,_ since his mask is no longer covering his mouth— which sparks more laughter from both MJ and Peter.

“I think we broke him,” MJ says, but Wade is more focused on her hand as it snakes down to cup his ass and squeeze. “Wade? Mr. Merc with a Mouth? You still in there, honey?”

Wade makes a strangled gulping noise as he chokes on his own spit, and Peter brushes a kiss over the shell of his ear. It’s soft, intimate, and it makes Wade feel like he’s flying and dying at the same time.

“If we’re moving too fast for you, Wade, you have to tell us,” Peter murmurs. The hand on his hip squeezes gently, and it feels more reassuring than boldly sexual. “We can’t hear what you’re thinking.”

Wade’s thoughts feel pretty damn loud to him, but maybe that’s just the boxes constantly badgering him around his head. He almost wishes Peter and MJ _could_ see them, just to make this whole process just a little bit easier.

“You two—“ Wade finally finds his voice, slightly strangled amidst the web ( _hah, I’m so funny_ ) of emotion tightening up in his chest. “—want to—“ He clears his throat. “—have sex. With me? That’s what’s being said here.”

“I’d like to have sex with you a lot,” MJ says cheekily. Wade tries not to forget how to breathe. “We both would.”

“We’d like it if we could… be in a... relationship. With you,” Peter adds, his voice a nervous murmur in Wade’s ear. It’s ridiculously coy compared to the overt sensuality of his previous declaration, which might have made Wade laugh in any situation where Peter and MJ weren’t trying to get into his bright red spandex panties. “But only if that’s what _you_ want, too.”

MJ’s hand is still on his ass, and Peter’s breath is warm against the side of Wade’s head. Peter has managed to inch his mask up even further, so that Wade’s entire face is nearly showing. It should feel terrifying, and on some level it absolutely does, but in a base, instinctual place somewhere in the back of his mind? All Wade can feel is _warm._

“Yeah,” he gets out after a moment, hoarse and choked. “I want that. _Fuck_ , I want that.” He leans into the hands against him, leans into Peter’s body and lets MJ fall more firmly against him.

MJ grins, wild and unchecked, and immediately begins to press feather-light kisses to the underside of Wade’s jaw. Peter, on the other hand, breathes out an “Oh, thank _fuck,”_ and manhandles Wade just enough to claim his lips in a desperate kiss.

* * *

One sexy little page break later, Wade finds himself lying on MJ and Peter’s body, naked save for a black pair of tight-fitting briefs that nobody’d thought to take off yet.

If he’s being honest with himself, he still isn’t completely certain this is happening. The two people who he’d fallen in love with actually falling for him sounded completely out of the question for his fucked up tragedy of a life. He was Wade Wilson. He was _Deadpool._ He was a fucked-up, nasty, ugly, motherfucking son-of-a-bitch that didn’t deserve to wake up in the morning, much less to have two fantastic people like MJ and Peter even in his life at all. For them to _want_ him, to want to see him and be seen by him?

It was not fucking likely.

Wade is nothing if not resourceful, though, and if he’s laid up in some dumpster and knocked the shit out after a fight having a fever dream about the two sexiest motherfuckers in the city, he figures he might as well enjoy it.

“You’re thinking again, Wilson,” MJ murmurs, just before biting down on his collarbone. Her naked form is perched on top of his, with her beautiful, perky tits brushing up against his nasty, fucked-up pectorals. Wade is pretty sure he could die right this second and be the happiest man to do it.

“I can’t help it,” Wade snarks, though it’s breathless as his hips jerk of their own accord. Peter laughs, and Wade can feel his breath brushing the wet spots on his underwear. While MJ seems to be focused on making him lose it by laving her way over every bit of skin she can reach above his torso, Peter is single-mindedly exploring every inch of Wade beneath his midriff. Wade squirms beneath their ministrations. “You had to know that, going into thi-this.” He’s not proud of the way his voice cracks, but Peter’s hand ghosts over his aching cock and Wade’s pretty sure that he’s actually going to die right the fuck now.

MJ licks a stripe up his neck, the action more possessive than Wade expects, and then captures his lips in a bruising kiss that has Wade panting, hot and dirty, into her mouth. “Oh, we know,” she murmurs to him, her own voice thick with arousal. Wade swallows hard. “By the time we’re done with you, though, baby, you’re mind’s gonna be so blown you won’t remember your own name.”

Wade feels Peter’s fingers working at the fabric of his boxers, so he lifts his hips obligingly as much as he can to let him pull them off.

“Mind won’t be the only thing that’s blown,” Peter quips, and Wade wants to say something smart-assed back to him, but then Peter’s mouth is _on his dick_ , his scarred-ass motherfucking dick, and Wade can do nothing more than make a strangled moaning noise and trembling beneath them.

Wade brings his hands up from where he’d been gripping the sheets to scabble for purchase on MJ, and she hums in approval as he rakes his scarred fingers over her soft skin.  She twists under his touch, giving Wade just enough leverage to jerk his head up and take one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, baby, just like that,” she sighs, her head falling back. Wade can feel her hair tickling his stomach.

He suckles at her nipple like he’s a goddamn calf ( _bad metaphor, Deadpool, very unsexy, the readers are expecting more from you_ ) and she ruts helplessly against his torso, her pussy leaking and wet against him. The sensation is overwhelming for Wade, especially when Peter sucks teasingly at the head of his cock before taking half of him down in one swallow.

Wade cries out, letting MJ’s hard, abused nipple fall from beneath his lips, and he finds MJ on him immediately, swooping down to kiss him hard and dirty. Her tongue dips into his mouth like she’s fucking him with it, and he hums and moans, his hips jerking against Peter’s hand, the one on his hip that’s restraining him from fucking Peter’s face like he’s beginning to want to.

Peter replaces his mouth with his hand, gives Wade a few quick pumps, and then swallows him down again. Wade _screams_ into MJ’s mouth, and she swallows the sound with a moan of her own in return. One of her hands finds one of Wade’s, and she guides it blindly towards her pussy. When Wade presses two fingers inside of her, she shudders and presses her hips down desperately, fucking herself on them.

And speaking of fingers… Peter presses one finger up against Wade’s entrance, circling slowly, and Wade’s pretty sure he’s using spit and precum as lube but he’s also definitely not complaining because oh _fuck_ Peter’s finger is inside of him now and it feels so fucking good and Wade can’t _breathe_ because MJ is kissing him and fucking herself on his fingers and Peter is sucking his dick like his mouth was made to do it and fingering him at the same time and Wade is also pretty sure he can hear Peter jerking himself off, too.

Wade falls apart without warning, crying out into MJ’s mouth and watching stars burst into his vision.

Vaguely, Wade feels Peter pull off of his dick after licking him clean ( _did Peter Parker just swallow my cum? Holy shit)_ and remove his finger from Wade’s ass, and then a second weight joins MJ on top of him. Wade opens his eyes to see Peter and MJ gratuitously making out on top of him, and that’s when he realises that his fingers are still jammed into MJ and that she’s riding him like there’s no tomorrow and _oh yeah that’s definitely really fucking hot._

“ _Fuck_ ,” he breathes out, and without breaking from MJ, Peter reaches down and blindly pats Wade’s chest until Wade grabs his hand with his free one. He laces their fingers together briefly and squeezes, and then lets go to let his own hand wander up Peter’s thigh, until he reaches a cock that definitely could use some attention.

Peter moans into MJ’s mouth, and MJ’s movements on Wade’s fingers grow more erratic. She finally drops her head to press into Peter’s chest, and Peter wraps one arm around her and holds her tight as Wade begins to jerk his hand against Peter’s already slickened cock.

“Beautiful,” Wade rasps. MJ is whining, her toes curling. “So fucking gorgeous, both of you--”

MJ’s entire body trembles as she comes, and she writhes atop Wade and presses against Peter when she does, finally stilling on Wade’s fingers only for Wade to slide them out and press them into his own mouth. MJ’s eyes flicker to him, and she gives him a cheeky, if slightly dazed, grin.

“So hot,” she murmurs, and Wade maintains eye contact with her a moment longer before shifting his gaze back to Peter. Peter’s eyes are locked on him, his body desperately rocking into Wade’s hand. Wade licks the last of MJ’s cum from his fingers.

“Come on, baby boy,” he murmurs, and Peter’s eyes roll back and he comes without a sound, his mouth open in a silent cry.

Wade slows his movements, but jerks Peter steadily through his orgasm, until Peter makes an uncomfortable humming noise. Immediately, Wade licks his fingers, the taste of Peter joining the taste of MJ on his tongue.

“So fucking hot,” MJ murmurs in approval. She leans over Wade, and Wade dutifully begins lapping at the cum that had gotten on her stomach, her tits, her chin. After a moment, he feels a tongue against his own torso, and glances down briefly to find Peter lapping his own cum off of Wade’s scarred abs.

When she’s relatively clean, MJ flops down on the bed beside Wade and curls up to his side, wiggling against his arm until he gets the memo and wraps it around her. Peter crawls to Wade’s other side and lies down as well. The bed is… definitely not made for three people, but Wade wiggles around a little and MJ winds up mostly on top of him, so they make it work.

“Holy shit,” Wade says, his face tucked in against Peter’s neck. From his position, he can feel Peter chuckling, the vibrations tickling against his skin. “That… really happened.” 

MJ kisses his chest, her movement uncoordinated and sleepy. “No shit, Wade,” she mumbles. “Now shut up and let me sleep.”

Wade laughs at that, mostly out of surprise, and tilts his head backwards. Peter pecks his lips lightly, adding to Wade’s surprise. “She gets grumpy when she’s tired,” he supplies, and Wade tightens his arm around her and snuggles more firmly in against Peter. “We love her, though.”

With his face tucked back into Peter’s chest, Wade feels safer than he has in years. “Yeah,” he murmurs with a smile he wouldn’t even mind if Peter saw. “We do.”

**Author's Note:**

> oooof i _still_ don't know how to write smut.
> 
> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
